


Before This Last Chime

by softlumos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Good Pansy Parkinson, Gryffindor Reader, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Half-blood Reader (Harry Potter), Hogwarts, Minor Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Reader is a Sweetheart, Reader-Insert, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stubborn Draco Malfoy, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:07:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlumos/pseuds/softlumos
Summary: Draco Malfoy never deserved a soulmate. With who he was, who he had to become, it was the one thing he'd stand by saying that he'd never deserve. But there you were, right in front of him, even if you didn't know it.You, a half-blood witch who was left as a baby by her parents to be raised by a muggle couple. A girl who, until attending Hogwarts, had led a completely normal life hidden away from the world her parents had once inhabited. You had always been the one person to never give up on Draco. The one person to always meet his coldness with kindness, and to never stop trying even when it seemed like there was no hope of ever wearing the arrogant Slytherin boy down.Neither of you know why you find it physically impossible to avoid one another and as the two start to give in to their fated path, the puzzle pieces begin to fall into place. But will Draco ever be able to let you in? Or will all the hostility drilled into him by his damaged background tear you both apart completely?
Relationships: Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory, Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. author's note & disclaimer

hello! thank you for choosing to read this story, i really hope you'll enjoy it! it's been a long time since i published anything i've written, so please take my apologies for any mistakes that might occur, or for the rusty beginning to this story! beginnings definitely aren't my strong point and i know that shows in the first few chapters, but i truly hope you'll enjoy this story as it unfolds, the chapters will hopefully improve as i get accustomed to writing them!

i'd like to say that i've kept this story as compliant to the canon story (in terms of events, at least) as possible, but it is also likely that certain aspects will be a little different in order to fit the plotline of this particular story better (such as cedric's age or other details not canon to j.k rowling's plot, for example). please feel free to adapt any details to fit your imagination, and please note that any details that i have changed are purely because i feel they work better with my story this way!

thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoy! 

\- rose minnie (softlumos). 

**disclaimer:**

this is a work of fiction. i do not claim to own any of the characters, places, ideas or otherwise that were created by j.k. rowling, however the original plot for this story is mine, so please do not attempt to plagarise or steal it from me. characters that i have created, not those originally part of the harry potter verse, are entirely mine but remain fictional. any resemblance to existing persons or events, living or dead, are purely coincidental. 

i also am aware that in some aspects, draco might appear to be somewhat ooc, but i've done my very best to depict him in a way that i feel he would act given the circumstances i've placed him in. regardless, please keep in mind that everyone's interpretations will be different and that's okay! 

lastly, i'd like to put out there that certain aspects of this story are lightly inspired by tiktoks created by user @/abbiehwx. her content is honestly incredible and has really inspired some parts of this story that i was struggling to plot beforehand, so please check her out because she deserves so much attention and love for what she creates! 

thank you and all my love. ♡


	2. prologue.

_**REWIND: THE SUMMER BEFORE FIRST YEAR** _

"What are you reading?"

An unfamiliar voice broke eleven-year-old you from your state of captivation as you skimmed over the words written on the back of the book in your hands. You wouldn't have thought that the question was aimed towards you, if only its source wasn't standing within such close proximity. Lifting your head, you were met with the sight of a boy you'd never met before. Of course, this came as an unsurprising revelation considering that this was the first time you'd ever knowingly set foot anywhere outside of the muggle world. You took a moment to observe the stranger, if only to familiarise yourself with him a little. He looked to be around your age, white-blonde hair sitting atop your head in a near-perfectly styled manner and grey eyes searching yours for some sort of response. In your surprise, it slipped your mind to answer, but the boy took it upon himself to resolve the lingering question himself. Reaching out, he took the book from your hands gently, as if trying to avoid scaring you off somehow. His features morphed into curiosity, or maybe it was disbelief, when he flipped it over to reveal the front cover. _"The Tales of Beedle the Bard."_ was printed clearly upon it in letters he'd seen a million times before.

"This is what you looked so fascinated by?" His incredulous tone brought a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks, and for a moment you wondered if there was something wrong with the book that you'd picked up. When you failed to answer again, the boy's expression softened slightly and he placed the book back into your hands. Briefly, he looked as though he was contemplating whether to speak up again or simply take his leave, and it was then you realised that in your surprise, you hadn't yet spoken a word to him. As he took a small step back, seemingly worried that he'd bothered you in some way, you spoke while tucking the book into your arms and tilting your head just a little.

"Is that bad? Have you read it?" Hearing you speak, it seemed to be his turn to show surprise and whether it was surprise at your question or just the fact that you'd spoken to him wasn't entirely clear. His gaze travelled down to the book in your arms once more. For a split second, what appeared to be a perfectly rehearsed look of disapproval painted itself across those unfamiliar features, only to simmer away once more when you seemed to retreat back into your own timid self. This time when he spoke his tone held no element of disbelief, replaced only by sincere curiosity.

"Of course I have. You haven't?" In response to his question, you could only shake her head. You weren't entirely sure why you were embarrassed to admit it, but part of you still felt like an outsider that was intruding on a world in which you didn't belong.

"How? Didn't your parents read it to you when you were little? I thought everyone would have read this at least a hundred times by our age." It was then that you realised why he was caught off guard by your lack of knowledge of the book. As you held it close to her, you shook your head again, displacing a few strands of soft hair atop your head.

"No, I didn't grow up with this kind of thing, I..." Your voice was small, as though every word that left your lips was something you were ashamed of. He studied you closely for a moment, perhaps analysing your every detail, before he took a cautious glance around him like he wanted to ensure that the two of you were still alone. You weren't sure why, but considering the fact that the two of you didn't know each other you decided against questioning it.

"You're... _muggle_ born?" Although he tried not to make it prominent, you didn't miss the disappointment, or perhaps disapproval, that was once again evident in his voice. Lifting your shoulders in a small shrug, it was almost instinct to send him an apologetic smile. Although many had been kind and helpful, you'd met a few wizards so far who seemed to confirm your worries that you didn't belong here. Each of them cast more doubt within your young mind over whether Hogwarts really would be the best place for you to go, even though you tried to ignore it and focus on those who had reassured you that this was exactly where you'd belonged since the very day you were born.

"It's hard to explain." Came your soft utterance, gaze cast down at the book in your arms before you placed it back upon the shelf it had come from.

"I have ti—." The boy began to speak once more, but was cut off as a man approached you both, snapping something about how he needed to hurry up with collecting his books because they had more important places they had to be. It didn't take much to work out that this man was the boy's father; their matching platinum hair was a tell-tale sign if nothing else. Drawn into embarrassment once more, you offered the most polite smile that you could before excusing yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was take up any more of the boy's time, especially if it meant getting him into trouble with his father. Come to think of it, perhaps you shouldn't have left so quickly, without even asking the boy for his name. Beyond that, though, lay the fear that your interaction had been doomed from the start; that he was destined to disapprove of you. You'd seen it there in his eyes and although the two of you were only passing strangers, for some reason you didn't think you could handle having your suspicions confirmed. 

Trying your best to push the unfamiliar boy out of your head, you went about gathering the books listed within the letter that you'd been sent. It took a while and a lot of help from the more experienced wizards working in the bookstore, but you eventually left Diagon Alley with each book on the list, as well as everything else you needed for your first year at Hogwarts. Your parents stood waiting just outside of the Leaky Cauldron, exactly where they'd left you earlier. You went through the motions like clockwork, telling them all about your visit to Diagon Alley as they drove home, only excluding your meeting with the boy you didn't know. Your parents were kind people, always so genuinely interested in what was going on with you and making sure that you were okay. You knew that they adored you, but lately you'd felt more distant from them than you'd like to admit. It had never been a secret that you'd been adopted as a baby, but you'd never felt the need to overthink it. They'd always given you more love than you could dream of, supporting you in everything you did and treating you like their own biological child. Within all of that, there was never a need to pay too much mind to the matter until now. Until now, where the thoughts at the very top of your mind had become an endless stream of _'Who were they? Who am I? Why didn't I know anything about any of this before?'._ Everything from the moment you received the letter revealing your true nature and your acceptance into a school for magic had felt like a dream. Part of you wondered if it would ever feel real, or if you'd spend the rest of your days in what felt like some sort of mirage.

That night, as you took the books out of your bag to place them in your half-packed trunk, something caught your eye. At first you thought it was a trick of the light, or perhaps your sleepy mind playing tricks on you. But as you stepped closer, it remained there as clear as day at the top of the pile. _A copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard_.

Slowly picking it up, you turned it over in your hands. You could clearly remember placing it back on the shelf, but here it was in your hands. Your brows furrowed softly in confusion while you opened the book, revealing a small folded piece of paper tucked just within the cover. Unfolding it slowly as you sat down on her bed, you were met with seven words that brought a smile to your features frequently from that day forward. 

' _My name is Draco, by the way._ '

That was the first night that you fell asleep to dreams of a magical school and a boy with white-blonde hair.


	3. buckbeak.

_**TWO YEARS LATER.** _

When you really thought about it, you couldn't believe just how quickly the last two years had passed. To think that you were already entering your third year at Hogwarts was terrifying to say the least. You'd come far in that time, making plenty of friends and truly finding yourself at home in the one place you thought you'd never adjust to. Ever since the day you'd been sorted into Gryffindor the very first time you'd stepped into the Great Hall, you'd never felt like you belonged anywhere more. You had also faced your fair share of situations more dangerous than you'd ever expected to find yourself in, but over the years you had come to accept that such things simply came hand in hand with being friends with the one everyone called 'The Boy who Lived'. And truthfully, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"For God's sake, [Y/L/N]. Watch where you're going before you become a hazard to everyone around you. Are you really so pathetic that you can't walk in a straight line without messing it up?" You were shaken roughly from your daydream by the sound of a familiar voice. Looking up, you were met with the unamused expression of the Slytherin boy everyone outside of his own house was far from fond of. The same Slytherin boy you'd been so hopeful about seeing again once your first year began. That was before he turned cold and cruel towards everyone he didn't deem worthy of his attention, you included. It took a moment before you could register the fact that it was his arm that had stopped you from falling over completely; you hadn't exactly been looking where you were going as you followed Hagrid to wherever he was taking your group for their Care of Magical Creatures class. You'd been so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn't seen the branch sticking out of the ground that had caused you to stumble and almost fall, the branch that would have left you completely on the ground if Draco hadn't caught you in time. As it dawned on you, you felt an embarrassed flush rise on your cheeks, your voice almost shy when you uttered a stunned "thank you". Swiftly, you straightened yourself out and attempted to play off your humiliation with a smile, though the gesture was only met by a raised eyebrow from the blonde standing in front of you.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'd have thoroughly enjoyed laughing at you falling if you weren't about to take me down with you. These robes are new, you know, I don't need you ruining them with your idiocy on the first day of classes."

Not giving you a chance to respond, he turned and left you there in a state of surprise, manoeuvring right back into his group of friends. You were certain that he didn't hear your quiet "no you wouldn't" in his apparent rush to leave you where you stood. Maybe he was telling the truth, but there went that little voice in your head that told you he wasn't that heartless. That he couldn't be, because he'd been so different when you'd first met. Sometimes you wished the little voice would be quiet, that you'd be able to see him in the same light that everyone else did, but you'd come to accept that it was somehow impossible. No matter how hard you tried, your mind always flickered back to those seven words scrawled on the note you kept tucked inside the journal in your bag. You knew he'd probably long forgotten his kind gesture from that day, but it had settled itself into your heart as a permanent reminder that there was more to Draco Malfoy than he allowed himself to show.

Blinking a few times, you urged the sudden tidal wave of thoughts in your mind to disappear and quickened your stride to catch up with your friends, hoping that they hadn't caught sight of what had just happened. It was a blessing when you realised that they hadn't, far too occupied with an incredibly dishevelled Neville as he finally managed to open his book. You cast him a sympathetic smile as you stood beside him, noticing his torn robes and the slightly dazed look in his eyes that had most likely come from the shock of having to wrestle with his textbook of all things. Neville was a kind boy, despite all of his bad luck, and you admired that about him more than anything else. The two of you had become fairly close over the years, and you couldn't help hoping that others would stop looking down on him someday.

Although their Care of Magical Creatures class didn't pass without a lot of taunting from Draco, mostly towards Harry, it was a class that you fell in love with regardless. As soon as Hagrid brought out the Hippogriff, you found yourself in awe of the creature. You'd seen one before, but only in pictures. Over the summer, you'd spent some time researching magical creatures out of curiosity, knowing that you loved animals in the muggle world and that it would most likely be no different in the magical one. It was an assumption that had proven to be true, even within the first few moments of witnessing the Hippogriff up close. Seeing one in person was an entirely different experience, but you were already loving every second. As soon as Harry was carried off on Buckbeak's back, your gaze followed them to the sky in a manner of fascination. Part of you wished that you'd stepped forward, but you also knew that you'd only have embarrassed yourself if you'd been in Harry's position. You'd tried multiple times before both in and outside of classes, but flying in any form and you really didn't go hand in hand. 

"Is this class living up to your expectations then?" Hermione's voice brought you back down to Earth and you met your friend's question with a bright smile, not having a chance to answer before Ron spoke up.

"It better be. It's all she was going on about in her letters all bloody summer." It was impossible to miss the teasing undertone in his voice, but it made you laugh even though he'd earned himself an elbow to the ribs from Hermione. There was no denying that you really had mentioned it at least once in every letter you'd sent to her friends over the summer, but you couldn't help your excitement for this class. It was only harmless teasing on their part, anyway. The feigned look of annoyance that you sent to the red haired boy only drew a laugh from him, soon leaving all three of you laughing amongst yourselves before your attention returned to the sky in anticipation of Harry's return.

You were so caught up in watching the sky, waiting for Buckbeak and Harry to appear amongst the clouds once more, that you missed the way Draco was looking at you from across the clearing with an expression of apparent distaste visible on his icy features as his thoughts ran into overdrive. _How could anyone possibly be so excited for such a waste of a class? Or was she just impressed by Potter and the way that once again, he had everyone cheering for him over little more than his mere existence? He wondered. Pathetic, that seemed to be his favourite word to describe it. What he couldn't wrap his mind around, though, was why it bothered him. Why did things like this always bother him when you were involved? He'd left caring over such petty things in the past, burying them with the memory of that day in Flourish and Blotts, and yet somehow he was still always bothered. That wasn't to say he cared, he would never go that far. He couldn't care less. But it was almost as though there was something making it physically impossible to dismiss your existence like he did everyone else's. Frustrating wasn't even the word to describe it, but he told himself that it was the exact reason he'd come to despise the soft Gryffindor girl that everyone around her seemed to adore so much. He hated you exactly because he couldn't hate you, and because the lack of control he had over the feeling drove him to the brink of insanity. There had always been something more there since the day he saw you standing there in that bookshop, something just below the surface that he couldn't explain and that he'd never show. He was gifted when it came to concealing his emotions; it was a talent he excelled in, especially when it came to those emotions that he didn't quite understand. Nevertheless, something about the way you watched the skies, waiting for Potter to come back, irked him beyond belief. He was still thinking about it when the cheers erupted, signalling the return of his established rival and causing him to roll his eyes as he saw you rushing toward the so called 'chosen one', presumably to gush over how impressive he was in one way or another. Throwing aside the core of the apple that he'd been eating for the duration of the lesson, he stood tall and barged his way through the crown before stopping to give it a second thought._

__

For a moment, you were too occupied with thinking about all of the things you wanted to ask Harry about what just happened to catch what the familiar Slytherin boy was doing. As always, though, his obnoxious comments demanded the attention of everyone around him. Turning away from Harry and Hagrid for a moment, your eyes widened as you saw Draco making his way over to Buckbeak though just like everyone else, you didn't have time to speak before it was already too late to stop him.

__

"Yes, you're not dangerous at all are you? You great ugly brute." No one had a chance to do anything before the Hippogriff was rearing in defence, knocking Draco to the ground without leaving him much time to react. He was still laying there, mumbling to himself as Hagrid sent Buckbeak on his way and dismissed the class, soon lifting the white-haired boy into his arms to take him to the hospital wing. You watched them for a moment in a manner of initial shock before turning to face your friends again, just in time to catch Ron sniggering to himself and Hermione shooting him a glare.

__

"Honestly Ronald, aren't you at all worried that this could end badly? If Malfoy is hurt then what will happen to Hagrid? We all know his father is going to raise hell over this. Not to mention the fact that he had to go to the _hospital wing_." Hermione's voice sounded somewhat irritated when she spoke. You knew that the other girl didn't really feel bad for Draco, nor did you blame her after everything that the Slytherin boy had put your friend through. It was clear that Hermione was more worried about Hagrid, and it was a worry that was shared by all four of you. 

__

"Bloody deserves it as well. Obnoxious git." Came Ron's muttered response to Hermione's last comment and although you all gave it your best efforts, none of you couldn't help laughing at his choice of words as you made your way to your next class.

__

Internally though, you were unable to shake the worry you felt for Draco too. It was frustrating to think that you might care, all things considered, but you'd given up on trying to question it at this point. It had always been impossible for you not to care for the other. And although it had always made you treat him with much more kindness than your peers did, it was still something you couldn't wrap your head around. Maybe it was simply down to the fact that you could see that perhaps kindness was exactly what he needed, especially given his apparent lack of genuine friends. But more than anything, you couldn't help wondering what exactly had made him react in the way that he did to Buckbeak in the first place, especially since he must have known what would come of it. Granted, he was unbearably arrogant at times and it was no secret that he liked to show off in front of anyone he could, but what could possibly have led him to believe his actions would end well?

__


	4. are you okay?

By the time third period rolled around, your mind was still centred around what had happened that morning. You'd like to blame it on the fact that you'd been seated next to Draco in History of Magic again this year, making it almost impossible not to notice his absence. But deep down, you couldn't deny that you were still concerned for him after what had occurred. Honestly, he wasn't as bad during class. Granted, that might have been due to the fact that last year left him seated away from the rest of the group that usually seemed glued to his side, but that was beside the point. It didn't cause him to suddenly act as though the two of you were best friends, not by any means. But even just working beside him mostly in silence was a difference that you welcomed to the usual snarky comments.

Both of you seemed to accept your dynamic by this point, and you were oddly content with that even if there was always a small part of you that wished you could crack through the ice surrounding him. Sometimes you even thought it was mutual, the unspoken connection that you felt to the boy everyone around you despised. You'd see it in a flicker of softness in his eyes when they met yours or the way that ever so occasionally, he'd meet your attempts at small talk with a response that didn't hold quite the same obnoxious tone as usual. There were also the small gestures, the ones that he'd carry out in pure silence and never address again, such as the lending of a quill when yours was broken or the concerned glance when you didn't quite seem yourself some days. He'd never speak of them, nor would he bother to attempt a smile, but the gestures were still there. Yes, they might have been minor and barely worth remembering, but that didn't change the fact that they meant something to you because they allowed you to witness even the briefest glimpse of the boy you'd met in Flourish and Blotts that day. Other times, though, you'd be sure that you were imagining all of it. You'd met on good terms, that was true, but you'd never really been friends or anything beyond tolerating one another. It simply wasn't a realistic idea, and you were certain that both of you knew that without the words having to be said out loud.

The lack of an appearance from everyone's least favourite Slytherin during History of Magic didn't go unnoticed by you, though you couldn't say you were surprised. Willing yourself not to pay too much mind to it, you tried to focus on the subject of the lesson, taking down all of the relevant notes as neatly as possible. You weren't sure why, but the thought of Draco struggling with this exact class last year lingered at the forefront of your mind. Of course he'd never explicitly _told_ you that he was struggling, but the way he'd huff to himself in frustration as he frantically tried to copy everything down spoke volumes to you without him even having to say a word. You'd offered to help him before, asking if he wanted to study together sometime, but it had hardly come as a surprise when he'd sharply turned you down.

"Hello. Earth to [Y/N]? Are you in there? Are you coming to lunch or staying here all day?" A hand in front of your face snapped you back to reality, and you looked up to meet the questioning eyes of Harry, with Ron and Hermione standing just behind him. It was then that you realised the class had ended and just how wrapped up in your thoughts you'd been that day. You offered her friends an apologetic smile, picking up your things and following them out of the classroom.

"Sorry, guys. I've been a little out of it today." You laughed a little at your own words, adjusting the strap of your bag upon your shoulder as you glanced over at the others.

"Something on your mind?" Hermione's tone held an element of concern, and you were quick to reassure her with a shake of your head, though you doubted highly that any of them were entirely convinced.

"No no, I think I'm just tired." Brushing it off quickly, you were relieved when the topic of conversation finally drifted away from you, allowing you to slip back into your thoughts. It wasn't clear to you why you'd been thinking so much since you'd arrived back at Hogwarts this year, but you hoped that it really was down to something as simple as a lack of sleep. As the four of you neared the great hall, your memory flickered back to the History of Magic notes in your bag, and your pace faltered before you could step inside. Your three friends turned to look at you, seemingly about to question you once more, but you were already retreating from where they stood.

"You guys go on. I just realised that I forgot to do something. I'll see you in class!" You called out to them, not waiting for a response before you were on your way in the opposite direction. Your steps carried you towards the hospital wing without you having to give it a single thought and soon enough, you stood outside of those heavy wooden doors. Hesitating for a moment or two, you reached into your bag and carefully pulled out the pieces of parchment containing the notes that you'd taken in third period. Was this a bad idea? Most likely. But before you could talk yourself out of it, you urged yourself to step inside.

You'd expected there to be more people beyond the threshold, but you were instead met with the sight of Draco Malfoy, and only Draco Malfoy, occupying one of the beds with his right arm in a sling. He looked up when you entered, and you would have missed the flash of surprise across his features if you weren't already looking at him. As quickly as it appeared, it was replaced by a simple scowl, like he was thinking of a way to question your reasoning for being there as sarcastically as possible.

"Where's Madam Pomfrey?" You asked, partly to break the silence and partly because you really hadn't expected him to be the only one there. You weren't all that confident in your actions to start with, but now you were even more apprehensive than before.

"Went to eat lunch. What do you want?" Came his retort, as snappy as ever.

"Do you have a minute?" This time, you heard your own voice before you realised that you'd spoken, shifting uncomfortably where you stood. It wasn't as though Draco himself made you uncomfortable, even if he did love lashing out at anyone he could. It was instead down to the fact that you hadn't really thought this through beforehand and that was coming back to bite you now. Maybe it had been beyond your better judgement to simply show up here the way that you had, especially since the two of you weren't exactly close.

"Believe it or not, [Y/L/N], I have several since that stupid bloody chicken landed me in here. Must you use them to bother me?" His reply was sharp and cold, almost challenging you as if he expected his attitude to send you on your way. To you, though, it was just nice to know that he was still the normal Malfoy. You stepped further into the room, deciding against answering his question directly or responding to his comment about Buckbeak. He looked like he wanted to say something as you approached, perhaps to demand your exit, but he didn't. Maybe this was part of his challenge; maybe he was curious to see how this would play out and what the soft-spoken girl he tried so hard to despise could possibly have to say to him that warranted her visiting of her own accord.

"Here." You mumbled, your tone gentle as though he hadn't just implied your presence to be a burden. Your arm extended to hold out several pieces of parchment for him to take, and his expression must have given away his confusion at the gesture because you continued just as gently. "It's the notes from History of Magic. We were assigned to sit together again so when I noticed you weren't there, I figured you might need these."

Draco didn't reach out his free arm to take the parchment. His expression remained as begrudging as always as he watched you fidget a little where you stood. Awkwardly placing the notes down on the table beside his bed, you didn't hesitate to take a step back from where you'd previously been standing, your rambling continuing as a likely result of your nerves.

"I hope they help. You can just give them back to me whenever you've had the chance to catch up. There's really no rush—."

"I don't need your help." Draco spat after a moment, the abruptness of his words enough to make you jump slightly. He softened just a little upon seeing you react in such a way, but the coldness he presented didn't fade. Although it wasn't something he'd ever confess aloud, much less to you, he hadn't intended to snap. If anything, your actions really had surprised him. It hadn't been what he'd expected when you'd arrived, not that he'd known what to expect. But the idea of you doing something kind for him without any reason to do so caught him off guard.

You, on the other hand, were trying to fight your embarrassment. Here you were, standing before him as though he was the most intimidating figure you'd ever been in the presence of. To some people he might be, but in your reality it was simply your own embarrassment that had thrown you off because the last thing you wanted was to make _him_ uncomfortable.

"I'm not saying you do. But that doesn't mean I won't offer it." Lifting your shoulders in a small shrug, you threaded a hand through your hair, lacing the strands around your fingers to occupy yourself somehow. It was a habit you often carried out when you were nervous, he'd noticed. _Why had he noticed, though? Had he really paid that much mind to someone so irrelevant that he'd even picked up on her habits?_ Roughly shoving the thoughts out of his mind, he breathed a light sigh and tore his focus away from you to stare at the ceiling.

"Right. You can go now then, you've done what you came to do." Despite the hostility in his tone, the fact that he didn't try to reject your gesture further brought a soft smile to your lips. Nodding a few times, you turned to leave the hospital wing, but a sudden urge in your mind stopped you before you'd taken too many steps. Slowly, you turned back to face the platinum blonde boy, only to be met with his questioning expression once more.

"What?" Came the question, his expression a clear display of distaste that somewhere, ever so subtly, held a sincere sense of curiosity.

"Are you okay?" You asked, your tone devoid of anything other than genuine concern as you stepped closer once more and allowed your gaze to rest upon his bandaged arm. For a moment he straightened his posture, as if he wanted to play it off, but you spoke up again before he had the chance to think of something witty.

"I mean really."

He was silent for what felt like an eternity, leaving you to stand there while he willed himself to think of a sarcastic remark to throw your way. What you didn't see, however, was the flicker of warmth that threatened to melt his icy resolve. He didn't understand it, how you could look at him with such pure and sincere concern. For once in his life, he didn't feel as though it was a matter of upholding his reputation or of presenting himself in the best possible way by answering with a lie. And after everything he'd put you through in your first two years at Hogwarts, he couldn't understand it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wrap his head around how you were always so kind to him, no matter how many sharp words he directed towards you. He'd been awful to you since you'd started at the magical school, and yet you'd never once snapped at him despite his efforts to create a rise out of you. Over the years he'd only become worse, just to finally see you look at him with the hatred he deserved, but it never happened and he couldn't understand how you could do it. Instead of snapping, you only ever greeted him with a kind word or a genuine smile to combat his sneers. Surely it was a sign of weakness on your part that you never stood up for yourself, never argued or pushed back no matter what he did. You didn't truly know him, you didn't owe him anything, but the worried look in your eyes as you waited to hear what he'd say threatened to break his cool façade for a moment.

"I'm fine." The words that spilled from his mouth surprised you almost as much as they surprised him, but this time he didn't have the heart to mock you when you smiled at him in that all-too-kind way.

"That's good. I'll see you later, Draco. I hope your arm gets better soon."

This time you didn't linger, maybe in part due to the fact that lunch was nearing its end and you'd be expected at your next class in a matter of minutes. You turned to wave at him as you neared the door, but you missed the way his gaze followed you out, and the smile that replaced his glower when the door fell shut behind you.


End file.
